The Many Faces Of Iggy
by MissMusic17
Summary: A collection of different Iggy-centered fics, showing the many hidden sides to Iggy. The hot-pink mustache and belly-dancing sides.
1. Hola Mustachio!

**A/N- Okay, this fic is weird. Well, weirder than my normal ones. I wrote it alone, but Spark ( XxBlackEaglexX ), came up with, like, half the ideas. She let me write it, but I must give her credit. This was created as a team effort. **

**D7I7S7C7L7A7I7M7E7R7!- The Maximum Ride characters are not my property, and neither are the Transformers. And not even all the ideas are either…Spark helped a lot with this. **

**THIS FICTION WAS NOT INTENDED TO OFFEND ANY MEXICANS! In fact, a friend of mine is Mexican… Also, the Maximum Ride characters are about 90% sure to be OOC. Just to add to the fun. Plus, I do not speak Spanish. If I make mistakes with what little Spanish I put in, please don't yell at me! And I have no idea what Hola Mustachio means or even if I spelled it right. My friend Bubbles likes to say it, so… C=. Hope you like it! **

The Many Faces Of Iggy

Hola Mustachio!

Mmmm…. what was Iggy cooking? It smelled great.

Of course, as usual, the delicious scent reeled me into Mrs. Martinez's kitchen. The Flock always gathered around as Iggy made dinner. It just smelled too good to ignore.

So, I walk into the kitchen, and the first thing I see is Angel, Nudge, Gazzy, and Max already sitting at the table, straining to hold in giggles. What the heck was going on? What was so funny? Did Gazzy put pudding in my hair again?

"Hola Senior!"

HA HA HA HA HA HA THIS IS EPIC! OH MY GOD AWESOME!

Iggy was wearing a sombrero that must have been two feet in diameter, and had somehow sprouted a mustache in the three hours since I last saw him.

…If a mustache is blonde, is it really a mustache? You can't really see it, except when the light, like, glints off of it, and it looks kinda shiny… Maybe if it was hot pink it would be a _real _man's mustache, not some prissy little girly blonde one. I should grow a pink mustache. Max would love it!

Anyways, he looked ridiculous. I couldn't help but burst out laughing. The rest of the Flock just looked at me for a minute, and then they lost it too. Iggy looked ready to kill us, though.

"Seniors Fang, Max, Nudge, Gazzy, and Angel! I am ashamed of you! Laughing at Mexican culture! How dare you!"

Max started laughing even harder. She was able to choke out a few words in between giggles, though.

"…Girls…are…seniorita!...You're…a….failure….of….a Mexican!"

Iggy went an interesting shade of red and spun around, chopping the taco meat even faster than before.

Wow, he was really taking taco night seriously.

* * *

After a while, we were able to tone the hysterics down to the occasional giggle. By then, dinner was ready, and we were quiet as Iggy set the loaded plates in front of us. Nudge picked up her fork and poked hers.

"This isn't made of a Chihuahua, right? Didn't the Aztecs eat Chihuahuas? You wouldn't feed us puppy meat, would you Iggy?"

Gazzy joined in, pointing at his glass. "The Aztecs also made blood sacrifices. Hey Igs, this is fruit punch, right?"

Iggy narrowed his eyes and sat down silently. All through dinner, the teasing got worse and worse.

"Iggy, that hat's big enough to keep a country afloat! Are you expecting a flood?"

"This isn't _Mexican_. You made it in America, Ig!"

"How on Earth did you grow that mustache so fast? Is it a fake mustache? 'Cause that's an insult to people with mustaches!"

Finally we broke him. Iggy stood up so fast that his chair fell over backwards.

"FINE! IF YOU ARE GOING TO BE SO JUDGEMENTAL OF TACO NIGHT, I'LL JUST LEAVE YOU ALONE SO YOU CAN EAT IN NORMALITY!"

With that he spun around. He would have stomped upstairs to his room, but he tripped on the overturned chair. Blushing red as sunburned giraffe, he limped up the stairs, muttering something about how 'that stupid chair should be eaten by rabid grasshoppers.'

* * *

After dinner, I snuck upstairs to Iggy's room. He was asleep, sprawled out on his bed, drooling on his pillow.

"He looks really cute when he's sleeping. Besides the drool, of course."

I spun around, searching for the intruder.

There was a girl sitting on Iggy's desk. I'd never seen her before, but she looked kind of familiar somehow. It was weird, because I couldn't really tell what she looked like. She had on a purple wizard cape with an Autobots tee shirt under it and a big cone wizard hat.

"Oh, you probably don't really remember me, but I'm Spark! I write stories about you, so you know me, but I always have Ratchet erase your memory for me afterwards."

I just gave her a look, and she got sort of uncomfortable.

"Uhh…yeah. RATCHET! HELP! FANG NEEDS A MEMORY ERASE DONE AGAIN!"

* * *

I snuck upstairs to Iggy's room. He was asleep, sprawled out on his bed, drooling on his pillow.

I tiptoed closer, and saw his mustache was still there. I tugged lightly on it, but not enough to wake him up.

What the heck? It was real. How on Earth had Iggy sprouted a mustache in less then three hours? He had to teach me that trick sometime. I would love to randomly be able to grow a 'stache.

I was doing him a huge favor with this, though. His white-blonde lip hair was too girly for his own good. I pulled the packet out of my pocket and carefully smeared some of the paste on his mustache. There we go. Iggy's manhood has been restored, thanks to yours truly.

* * *

_THE NEXT MORNING…_

I hope Iggy enjoys his new manly mustache. I had put a lot of thought into the color.

"OH MY GOD WHY IN THE FLYING MONKIES IS MY MUSTACHE HOT PINK?"

Awww… he liked it.


	2. Hips Don't Lie

**A/N- I'm loving this fic so far. It's so fun to type random funny things. **

**I have a request for you all. Before you read this, look up 'Shakira's Hips Don't Lie' on YouTube and watch the official video. It'll be a more…enriched reading experience if you see the video beforehand. C= HAHAHAHAHA!**

**So, now we learn of Iggy's Shakira face. Let us begin!**

**DTITITSTCTLTATITMTETRT!- I no own Maximum Ride. Also, Spark gets credit for creative help. And the song is 'Hips Don't Lie' by Shakira. No offence to her fans. (You'll see what I mean.)**

The Many Faces Of Iggy

Hips Don't Lie

Where had Iggy gotten to? He had disappeared hours ago, and nobody had seen him. Maybe he had gone out for a fly?

Just as I passed the stairs on my way out the door, I heard something. It sounded like… music.

_Ladies up in here tonight_

_No fighting _

_(We got the refugees up in here)_

_No fighting _

_No fighting_

_Shakira, Shakira_

What the heck? Shakira? I spun around and headed up the stairs, wanting to know who in this house listened to _Shakira._ They deserved a good beating. Incessant teasing could work too, though.

I followed the music, up the stairs, down the hall, and to…Iggy's room?

_I'm on tonight _

_You know my hips don't lie_

_And I'm starting to feel you boy_

_Come on, let's go, real slow_

_Don't you see baby ali es perfecto_

What was Iggy doing listening to Shakira? I silently opened the door, slid in, and went invisible. I loved my power. It was very convenient for spying, to be able to literally disappear.

OH MY GOD OW OW OW OH WHY MY EYES THEY BURN I CAN NEVER UNSEE THIS WHY OH WHY DEAR GOD WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS HORROR!

Iggy was in the middle of the room.

Shirtless.

Belly-dancing to 'Hips Don't Lie' better than Shakira.

I think my eyes burned out of the sockets at that.

I looked around the room, anywhere but at Iggy. I was so focused on the music, I just now heard a … splashing sound. Looking in the corner, I saw the source.

There was some girl in a wizards costume and a Transformers tee shirt, but her hat was on the ground, and she was huddled in the corner of the room, throwing up into a trash bin. For some reason, the girl gave me some serious déjà-vu. Weird.

"Iggy, stop! For the love of all that is Transformers, stop!", she screamed at Iggy.

He didn't even pause. He just started to sing along, in exactly the same pitch as the original.

Okay, this was getting seriously creepy here…

Then, it got even worse. Iggy reached behind his head…

… and pulled down a zipper hidden in his head, revealing a crazy woman with some seriously inhuman flexibility! It was Shakira! The horror! The pain! The agony!

How had Iggy hidden this from us all these years? How had we never known that he was Shakira all along! How had we thought a grown woman was a fourteen-year-old bird kid! How could we have been so blind!

All these years, I loved Max, when Shakira and her hips were right here all along! I had been missing out on so much! Who needs Max?

Then, the girl in the corner looked straight at me, even though I was invisible.

"Fang, you're being such a pervert! And Fax is meant to be! How can you leave her so easily?"

… Was she reading my mind? What the heck was going on here?

She gave me a disappointed look as she indifferently shoved Shakira/Iggy out the window.

"Fang, you are a horrible person. This was a test." She huffed a big sigh. "Gina and I made a bet. She has this weird fictional-character-crush on you, but I told her Iggy is way better. So, I come here to prove that you'd give Max up for Shakira, and go so far as to believe that Iggy would lie to you for years. You failed the test. I should have Gina send you to Ratchet for a little bit of brain surgery; you're pretty OOC."

Man, that girl talked fast. And who was Gina? And wasn't Ratchet a… Transformer? I was no way in feathery snakes going to have a giant robot who didn't exist give me brain surgery! And for what? Was OOC some kind of disease? Was I going to die?

The creepy fast-talking girl gave a sad little shake of her head.

"You may as well die, for how bad being OOC is. It annoys people big time. I'm going to have to notify my agents; we need to get you on the operating table STAT. You're starting to realize the truth, beginning to see the existence of fanfiction and how a great part of your life is a great big lie concocted by hormonal teenage authors with a lot of free time and a fetish for you."

She pulled a pink cell phone out of her pocket and started texting, muttering. It sounded something like, 'accursed case…thought it was red….pink, just too dumb to exist….' Then, she growled, smacked it, and went on about how she needed to take it to Ratchet and she was annoyed at the stupid thing for malfunctioning so much.

What a freak.

"I heard that."

Mind-reading freak.

She snapped the phone shut and started up talking again.

"Okay, Gina's on her way, with Hide, just in case you resist, oh gosh, I hope they get here without killing each other. Who in their right mind throws soap into a giant alien robot's plasma cannon? Of course, she has no mind, is insane, and now Ironhide loathes her….ugh, if they start fighting again, I'll beat them both."

Just then, she was interrupted by the second window shattering. None of the glass even hit the floor though, it just disappeared into thin air. If that wasn't creepy and unnatural enough, another girl flew in on a witches' broom.

This one was wearing a Lord Of The Rings-ish cape and a gypsy sash over top of regular jeans and a purple shirt.

"So, Hide's waiting outside, and I brought the elf tribal leader too; extra protection."

Great. Another eccentric.

She rolled her eyes at me and hugged the original freak. They were like sisters.

Then, the second girl came over and hugged me so hard I passed out.

* * *

I was confused as heck. I kept seeing weird images…

Iggy dancing like Shakira.

Iggy with a hot pink Mexican mustache.

Iggy with half his hair blown off by a bomb.

Why in the world was I dreaming about Iggy? I'm not gay, am I?

God, I hope not.


	3. Going Gangsta and Pantsless Hobos

**A/N- Greetings people of the Earth and beyond! Here's another chapter of Iggy randomness for you! Please review, if you have requests, comments, compliments, or flames. I'll take anything.**

**DISCLAIMER!- I wrote this alone, but I got idea help from Spark, and another friend of ours, Veronica. ( Carter-Writes ) They rock! Haha, also, I don't own the Maximum Ride characters. Sadly. Nor do I own The Colony. Also, none of this was meant to offend anybody. **

The Many Faces Of Iggy

Going Gangsta and Pantsless Hobos

The house was quiet. Max had taken Nudge and Angel for a fly; Gazzy was working on a bomb. Surprisingly, Iggy wasn't with him; he had gone to Walmart. Iggy had been acting pretty weird lately. I think that the whole mutant-bird-kid thing had finally gotten to his head. Maybe he was going insane. I wouldn't be surprised.

I was spread out on the couch watching The Colony. It was a pretty good show; they'd just made a machete. I'd love to make a machete myself. Although I have to say, the new girl, the logger, was a jerk. I hate her now.

"'Sup homies?"

I started, turning toward the front door.

"What the heck, Iggy? Is it Halloween?"

The guy looked like a total freak. He was trying way too hard to be gangster. His tank top looked normal, even if I was pretty sure he had stolen it out of Max's drawers. But the hat and multiple chains looked ridiculous, and his pants were well below his butt. I swear, they were almost to his knees.

His underwear was powder blue with teddy bears. Cute. And by cute, I mean that I'm going to tease him forever for this.

His shoes were untied and really stupid-looking. And the look on his face cracked me up. Iggy was trying to look tough and cool, but just looked like a poser.

"No. Why?"

I burst out laughing. "You look like a total idiot, dude! Go change before Max gets back and beats you for stealing her shirt."

He frowned at me. "But isn't this normal these days?"

"No. It's stupid. I never needed to know about your teddy bear underwear."

"I'm allowed to wear any kind of panties I want!" Igs was blushing redder than I thought humanly possible.

I cocked an eyebrow, even if he couldn't see it. "I'd be seriously worried if you're wearing 'panties'. Is there something you want to tell me?"

Iggy blushed even deeper and ran back out the door.

Good. My show was getting exciting.

* * *

God, Fang was such a constant downer. I kind of liked my pants this low. It probably looked pretty weird, but it was so loose and free. I took off flying, not really caring who saw.

About five minutes later, I was over a city, judging by the noise and the blurs of light that I was able to see. I flew even faster, wanting to be alone and as far from Fang and his negativity as possible.

I was so wrapped up that I didn't notice my pants drooping lower and lower. I didn't notice anything until they fell off, falling the thousands of feet down to the city streets.

Darn. Those were my favorite jeans! Now I have to go home in just my pan-I mean, underwear.

* * *

Josh was worried. He had been a hobo since seventh grade, because he was a failure in life, and had never had a girlfriend because nobody loved him. He was very likely to die alone because apparently, chicks found his goatee stupid.

Oh well. Their loss. His goatee was totally hot.

He picked a bit of noodle out of his goatee and absentmindedly ate it, contemplating what he should do now.

Yesterday, he had stolen some sprite from a little kid and chugged it down, getting drunk almost immediately. Drunk and even stupider than usual, he had started to flirt with a mailbox, and when the resident of the house came and yelled at him, Josh called him a fudge-monkey and ran away.

Later, he had gone to a restaurant shirtless, and the waitress told him to get his fat butt out of there, so he licked her face and ran inside, where he jumped up on a table and did the chicken dance. People started to say some rude things to him, so he started to do the hokey-pokey instead. Then this totally ripped guy in a black shirt grabbed him and dragged Josh outside, dumping him in the alley and ordering him to never come back again.

After that, he saw an alley cat, and started to fervently make out with it, when a couple of guys with sticks came and beat him up and stole his pants. Josh writhed in pain for a while before passing out from being so gosh-darn drunk from that sprite.

So here he was, sitting in an alley, noodles in his goatee, no pants on, one heck of a hangover, and the alley cat he had made out with had run away to boot.

Josh needed some pants.

Then, out of nowhere, a pair of skinny jeans fell out the sky and hit Josh the Hobo in the head, knocking him down, because he wasn't exactly strong.

Josh held up the pants, looked up at the sky, and shouted to the heavens, "PRAISE THE LORD! PANTS!"

Then, he heard a faint whisper behind him.

"You're a faaaaiiiiilllluuureee…"

Josh the Hobo paniced. "What? Who are you?"

The voice answered in another harsh whisper.

"I'm the ghost of ffaaaaiiiillllll….."

Josh was scared. He dropped the pants like they were made of cockroaches, and ran out of the alley as fast as his filthy legs could take him.

The girl behind him turned to her friend. "I can't believe that worked, Spark!"

The wizard-and-Autobot-clad girl nodded wisely to the other, who was wearing plaid pajama pants and handmade jewelry.

A third girl walked up behind them and ruined the moment, picking up the pants. She had on a medival cape and gypsy sash.

"Hey, Veronica, do you want the pants? Maybe you can lure Iggy to come back to your basement with 'em."

She nodded, took the pants, and then Spark got a worried look.

"Uh, guys? It's still in third-person mode. We're stealing fic time!"

They all got wide eyed, then the girl with a cape pulled out a keyboard. It had no screen, but she typed in 'END FIC' with the speed of a regular at the computer.

And then the world went black, and the words you are reading disappeared.


	4. Toaster Troubles

**A/N- Hola peoples! Today, I'm skipping 2 and a half of my morning classes because somebody scheduled an orthadontist appointment for 8:45 on a school day, while I have to be at school at 7:20.**

**But can't deny, sleeping in for an hour and forty-five minutes felt **_**good.**_** Love it!**

**Anyways, I'm getting my braces off soon, probably within a month. I'm so excited! It's been roughly two years. I got them on on November 23, 2008. I only remember because it was the day before Thanksgiving and I ate the biggest meal of the year with sore, scratchy teeth. Yeah. Great pain.**

**Okay, I think I'm about done ranting now… we might as well start the story.**

"**DIS!" "CLA!" "IMER!" – I do NOT own Maximum Ride. If I did, I'd be writing another book, not fanfiction. Also, even if you readers are probably starting to get **_**very **_**sick of it, I must give credit to Spark and Veronica for creative help. I wrote it all, but they came up with some good ideas. To quote KD, "I LOVE YOU!"**

**Note- This was started a month ago and finished now. My braces come off in about two weeks, and the 18****th**** of October is my birthday! Woooo, I'm older!**

***off in distance***** **_**'Hide, I don't care if I'm rambling! Do I have to get the soap again? 'Cuz I'll do it, don't you think that just because Spark isn't here you're safe!**_

**Haha, I have to go now peoples. I need to find a nice-sized bar of soap to throw in a giant alien robot's plasma cannon. Have a nice day!**

Toaster Troubles

Stupid toaster. I smacked it, wanting my dang toast already. It had been toasting that bread for almost five minutes now, and it still wasn't done!

"Iggy! Five o'clock incoming!"

I didn't even think. I spun around just in time to kick a Flyboy in the face. I was pretty sure it was the face, unless his neck had grown a nose.

It felt weirdly good to be fighting for my life again. Dr. Martinez's was nice and all, but it just wasn't _me,_ to sit in a safe house and relax. I had to be on the run and tense at all times.

Yeah, weird.

I started to yell at them, just for the fun of it, as I kicked Flyboy butt.

"GET THE YELLOW LLAMAS AWAY FROM MY TOASTER! I'VE WAITED A LONG TIME FOR THIS PARTICULAR TOAST, AND NO DIRTY ROTTEN LITTLE PURPLE PIG LIKE YOU IS GONNA KEEP ME FROM IT!"

I'm pretty sure that my random shouting slowed them down at the very least, and I have to admit, I barely understood what I was saying myself. I have to feel a bit sorry for those Flyboys. Of course, not sorry enough that I let them off easy. Haha! As if.

I got in a good roundhouse and followed up with a punch to the stomach. I stood still for a second, panting. I couldn't hear anybody, except of course the Flock around me.

"That it? Are they gone?" I hated not knowing exactly what was going on.

"Yeah." I heard Max cough a bit.

I heard a slight twanging sound, and without thinking, I spun around and karate-chopped the counter where it had come from. Destroying my beloved toaster and the toast that had just popped out.

I picked it up and cried, cradling my toaster like a baby.

* * *

"Hey, guys, guess what I got!" I yelled, skipping into the house, carrying a huge cardboard box.

From the sound of their breathing and iCarly, they were clustered around the TV. Evidently, they hadn't heard me, because nobody said anything. I shrugged and bounced into the kitchen, not wanting to interrupt iCarly. That is one seriously dramatic show and I didn't want to ruin their viewing experience.

I barely managed to set the box down without crushing my toes; it was super heavy and maybe four feet tall. I twirled in a few circles, snatched a knife off the counter, yelled and cried for ten minutes because I grabbed the blade, and finally, leaned over the box, prepared for the cut. The Opening Of The Box!

With one big swipe, I cut off the tape. I also cut off a thumb, but that was irrelevant as I held up the contents, gazing at them in wonder and awe. This was the best day of my life.

"PRAISE THE LORD!" I yelled. "A NEW TOASTER!"

I set it gently down on the counter and plugged it in with care. I fingered the edge lovingly. Being blind, I was unable to see that since this was a 4 – slot toaster, what I thought was the edge was actually the middle. Within three seconds, my hand was jammed in the toaster. As I flailed, yelling for help, I accidentally pressed down the start button.

It was a good three minutes before the toaster stopped toasting my fingers, and by then, I was lying on the ground, passed out from lack of blood after chewing my arm off like a coyote.


	5. Pauline the Polar Bear

**A/N- Hey guys! Here's a late-ish Thanksgiving update for ya! I would have updated yesterday, the official day of, buy hey, I was too busy chowing down on my grandmas delicious cooking. =P Hope you enjoy, and have a nice day!**

**SUPER SPECIAL SHOUT-OUT!- To my buddy Bittersweet392! Today is her birthday! I love you Blaze! Lots of exclaimation points as my virtual gift, as well as a virtual pie! Haha have a wonderful birthday buddy! (You're gonna love your real present)**

**DUMB DISCLAIMER THING- I don't own Maximum Ride. Or Silly Bands. Or Round and Round by Selena Gomez. Or rotten turkey. (Praise the lord for that.)**

The Many Faces of Iggy

Pauline the Polar Bear

I moaned a bit, rolling over and pulling the covers back over myself. Why had I woken up exactly? I listened as hard as I possibly could, seeing as I was still half-asleep and really had no motivation to wake up... the house was so quiet...so wonderfully, sleepy, quiet...

I shot up in bed, throwing off the sheets, listening to this phenomenon. That's what woke me up. It was quiet. Totally and completely silent. Wow. Just...wow.

Usually there's some sort of loud noises going on in the house. Since we have a more permanent home and there's no longer the whole make-too-much-noise-and-the-Erasers-will-hunt-you-down thing going on, it's always constant noise. Nudge and her urgent need to play Justin Beiber -yuk- at top volume all day, Gazzy and Iggy with their bombs and loud arguments, Max yelling at everybody and occasionally smashing something after talking to Angel, who contributed to the racket with the Barbies that Mrs. Martinez bought her... the kind that talked every time you touched them. Gosh, I hate those things. All they say is "Hi! I'm Barbie!" Those things are too darn perky to exist.

Back to the point, I haven't heard silence in... a long time. Well, actually, can you really 'hear' silence? It's just the lack of noise, so you don't hear anything.

I was about to sneak out of my macho room full of fluffly stuffed animals when I noticed that something was wrong. I spun back around, suspicious. Scanning the room, I zeroed in on an empty spot on the second shelf from the top, where right in between Leonardo the Lion and Katerina the Koala, I could actually see the back of the bookshelf. I fell to the ground, wailing, breaking the prefect, too-good-to-be-true silence. No, no it couldn't be true, it couldn't be true, this was too horrible to be!

She was missing. Somebody had stolen Pauline the Polar Bear.

I clutched my head, screeching, and started to slowly pull out my hair. This. Was. Mutiny. Who would steal Pauline from me? Only a big fat meanie head, and I was determined to hunt them down. As soon as I was done yanking out my beautiful hair, anyway. But before I finished, the door opened, and Iggy sauntered in, slightly concerned. In one hand, he held a large pink lollipop. In the other, he held Pauline. I felt fury rise up in me at the sight.

"Dude, you've been yelling for almost ten minutes, are you-"

"TRAITOR!," I roared, leaping at Iggy, trying to claw Pauline out of his grip. "HOW DARE YOU STEAL MY BEAUTIFUL PAULINE! I HATE YOU WITH THE FIREY PASSION OF AN ANGERED MANGO! DIE!"

Iggy hissed, and wrenched her away, shoving me to the floor. He gave his lollipop another lick and threw it at me, getting it stuck in my hair. No! That dirty banana! He ruined my luscious locks of awesome that Max loved me for! How could he? I thought Iggy was my friend! My eyes narrowed as they fell upon Pauline the Polar Bear, held tightly in his hands. No. He wasn't my friend. He was a traitor who had pretended to be trustworthy for years just so he could get to my stuffed animals. And now he would die.

Iggy glared at me, as well as he could without actually seeing me, at least. "Pauline is _mine. MINE, _you ludacris fool!," he screamed, tossing her into the hallway so that he had both hand to throttle me with. Which he proceeded to do. I was able to lash out with my legs though, and kick him off right before I was strangled to death by a blind liar. Good thing too- that would be just plain shameful.

Thus began the most epic battle of all time. I beat up Iggy the best I could, and he was surprisingly vicious, actually biting me a few times. We were at it all day, but I just couldn't take that much continuous beating. After a while, I just lay on the floor, defeated and ashamed, as Iggy stood over me, holding Pauline up to the heavens in triumph.

* * *

I did it! I did it! To celebrate, I kicked Fangs limp body and marched through the streets, crowing my victory to the world by singing Round and Round by Selena Gomez as loud as I could. Suddenly, I heard a rumbling sound, and saw a large brownish shape. Startled, I dropped Pauline. It was the garbage truck, and I ninja rolled to the side, barely avoiding getting smashed. I actually brushed one of the tires. Standing up, I realize what had happened. Oh no. Pauline!

The truck stopped, right where I dropped her. I could hear the trash dude muttering to himself as he took the garbage off the curb and chucked it into his truck.

"Stupid kids, leaving their toys in the street. Trash, junk, all of it. Waste of money."

I heard a small thump, and my stomach churned sickeningly. They had thrown away my hard-won Pauline. I had pretty much killed Fang for possession over her, and now she was gone. Doomed to rot in a landfill, surrounded by rotten turkey and broken Silly Bands. I couldn't accept this. It couldn't be.

I followed the garbage truck by air, listening to its noisy tires bouncing on the potholed streets, watching what blobby shapes I could, until we came to the junkyard. I listened as it dumped the load to the ground, and swooped down. I wandered that trash heap for days, trying to find Pauline by touch and the few blurry colors I could see. Needless to say, I didn't find her. Eventually, I simply sat down and cried. This was horrible. I couldn't believe it. My Pauline was gone.

That was when I felt a long, hard object pierce my stomach. Feeling the blood rush out of my organs and onto the ground and my lungs fill up, I drowned in my own bleeding arteries and fell to the ground, dead. I cannot believe that I died from a unicorn attack in a junkyard! What the heck world!

**A/N- And so the Venomous Unicorn strikes again! Review if you want to see his return in the nest chapter. =D**


End file.
